Chaos Starts Where Logic Ends
by TheFinalFrontier87
Summary: Writing Challenge: While on an away mission, Captain Kirk gets infected with a virus that forces him to think only logically. (Written by IdenticalSnowflakes)


"_Captains Log: Stardate 5407.13. Science Officer Spock Reporting. The USS Enterprise is currently in orbit around the uninhabited and unexplored planet named 'Oculus Four'. Both The Federation and the Klingons have claimed the planet. However, quite Recently the Klingons backed out and dismissed their claim on the planet with no explanation as to why. The away team managed to collect various samples from the planets surface. More information to come. Spock out._"

"Thats it?" McCoy asked incredulously.

Spock arched an eyebrow, glancing up at the doctor hovering over him. "Do you have an issue on how I am performing my responsibilities, Doctor?"

"You left vital information out of the log!"

"I believe you and I have different understandings of the meaning of the word 'vital'. Perhaps you should look into purchasing a dictionary," Spock responded. He rose from the captain's chair and began to walk towards the elevator, McCoy following him closely.

"Jim-"

"The Captains current condition does not count as important information that Starfleet needs to be informed of. The purpose of the log is to inform Starfleet Command of any information that pertains to the mission; not to inform them of individuals current medical conditions."

"Jim breathed in poison gas on a supposedly safe planet! Doesn't that ring any bells in that emotionless computer mind of yours?" McCoy asked.

"Yes, Doctor, you have already expressed concern with your hypothesis regarding the Klingons. However, you must realize that the chances of the Klingons setting up a trap is approximately five thousand seven hundred thirty six point twelve to is no way they could have been sure that it would have been the Captain who went down with the away team. The security team also reported that the toxic gas was administered into the atmosphere by a plant that roughly resembles a large Venus Flytrap," Spock said, his expression blank as always. Bones' frown increased.

"But-"

"Your own medical team reported that there is nothing physically ailing the captain. He was merely rendered unconscious." Spock tilted his head, raising an eyebrow at the frustrated doctor. "Unless you believe your amature medical opinion is flawed."

"_Amature_? Now you listen here, you green blooded elf, there is nothing wrong with any of my diagnoses. Never has been, never will be," McCoy growled.

"Good. Then once the Captain awakes you can bring your concerns regarding the ship's log to him," Spock said.

"You're a machine," McCoy grumbled.

"Thank you," Spock said.

McCoy groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm gonna draft another resignation letter."

"Illogical," Spock commented, earning a bitter glare from McCoy.

The doctor and the Vulcan walked to the medical bay together. McCoy's usually crowded place of work was vacant expect for a few nurses and Kirk, who was fast asleep in one of the hospital beads. His chest slowly moved up and down, and the machines portraying his vitals beeped softly. Otherwise the room was silent.

McCoy bitterly shot Spock one last glare before shuffling across the room to talk to one of the nurses.

Spock stiffly stood by Kirk's bedside, his hands clasped behind his back. It was illogical to feel any sort of concern for his friend when all the data said Jim would be just fine, however….

No.

Spock didn't feel any concern. He didn't feel friendship, either, for that matter. Those were human feelings, and feelings were something to be ashamed of.

He was in control of his emotions.

Vulcans didn't have emotions.

But there was that nagging, illogical feeling in the back of Spock's mind that Jim wasn't going to be okay, no matter what the data said. That his friend-

No. Not friend. Vulcans cannot feel friendship.

But still-

"We're going to give him a stimulant," McCoy said.

Spock glanced up to see McCoy holding a large needle in his hand.

"It'll wake him up. And I need him awake so I can file another complaint about you and your stupid logic," he said.

"Your species could use some logic," Spock commented dryly, "if you thought more with facts and data and less with your emotions this might have never happened in the first place."

"Are you going to move aside so I can give him the stimulant or not?" McCoy scowled.

"Give it to him, it is only logical," Spock said, taking a few steps back.

"Don't agree with me, Spock. It makes me uneasy," McCoy mumbled.

The needle hissed as McCoy injected into Jim's bloodstream. The doctor set it aside and stood on the other side of the bed, directly across from Spock.

Slowly, very slowly, Jim shifted under the blanket. His eyes crept open.

Jim immediately shot up into a sitting position. His eyes darted around the room. He frowned.

"Woah, there Jimmy boy, take it easy," McCoy said. He placed his hands on Jim's shoulders and smiled softly. Jims eye locked onto his.

"Mission report," Jim said, his voice hoarse.

McCoy blinked. "Huh?"

"He asked for a mission report," Spock said.

Jim and McCoys eyes snapped up to meet Spock's. The elder scowled.

"I _know_ what he asked, Einstein, I'm asking why he-"

"Mr. Spock. Mission report," Jim said. He stood up and faced Spock, his hands clasped behind his back and his face devoid of any emotion.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "The away mission failed to compile the scientific data you were searching for. The accident resulting in you falling unconscious put a stop to the away team's progress. They-"

"He doesn't need a mission report right now, Spock! He needs rest!" McCoy snapped.

"There is no need to worry yourself, doctor. I am quite capable of functioning long enough to direct another away mission. Don't be illogical," said Jim.

McCoy took a step back.

Spock sighed mentally. "Captain, while I am sure you are having fun mimicking my superior intellect, we have to get the data from the planet and report back to Starfleet Command by the end of the day. We can not afford to waste any time."

"I agree completely, Mr. Spock. This is exactly why you must alert security to prepare another away mission. Also alert Ensign Chekov that we'll need a navigator. You shall prepare to come with as well, of course," Jim said.

"It seems to be the logical course of action," Spock said.

"Of course Mr. Spock. You of all people know that logic is the foundation of any functioning operation."

"Indubitably," Spock responded.

The entire room went silent.

"Oh good Lord, he's delirious," McCoy said softly. He grabbed a tricorder and started checking Jims vitals.

"Doctor, I just told you I am alright. You need not concern yourself with trying to heal a healthy man," Jim said. His face and voice gave away no emotion.

Spock thought he sounded like… well, him.

Apparently the good doctor thought so too.

"You sound like a _Vulcan_," McCoy said, looking rather ill.

"Why thank you," Jim replied with a small nod, "I do try to incorporate as much logic as possible when dealing with even the most trivial of matters.'

"No, no you don't. Green bean over here does," McCoy said, waving his hand in Spock's direction. Spock raised an eyebrow.

"You are mistaken, surely," Jim said. He arched an eyebrow, much like Spock. "But I would expect that of you. You use emotions instead of logic, impulsiveness instead of knowledge. Perhaps you should try to think a little more logically for a change. Now, I must go prepare for the next away mission. If my presence is needed you will find me on the bridge. Mr. Spock, gather the security team. That will be all."

And with that last comment Jim turned on his heal and marched out of the med bay, his posture straighter than a board.

Spock and Bones stood shoulder to shoulder.

Silent.

A hundred thoughts and theories ran through Spock's mind, each one more fascinating than the last. His thoughts, however, were interrupted by the flabbergasted doctor.

"What just happened?"

* * *

Jim stood stone still as he rode the elevator up to the bridge.

Usually after an away mission such as this he would feel jittery and exited. Just sitting or standing around would never be enough; it would never satisfy his need for adventure.

But now he felt none of that.

He felt nothing… and everything at the same time. It was like his eyes were opened; like his entire life he was looking through a keyhole, and now he was actually inside the house.

Instead of buzzing with excitement like it normally did, his mind was as calm as a gentle snowfall covering the family farm back home.

His mind seemed clearer than a pane of glass; empty of all distractions.

It felt… logical.

The elevator doors slid open seamlessly, and Jim walked out onto the busy bridge. A couple sets of eyes flickered up towards him as he walked by, followed by small smiles. That's odd. Why would someone smile when they saw him? It was most illogical. And distracting.

Distractions were bad.

"Captain on Bridge!" Uhura called.

That gave Jim a pause. What was the logic behind announcing this? The bridge was not very spacious; everyone could already knew his current location.

Hmm.

Illogical.

Jim sat his chair, making sure to keep a perfect posture as too increase the likelihood of him being able to perform optimally later.

"Keptin! You're alwight!" Ensign Chekov grinned a big, toothy smile.

"Obviously. You needn't make many deductions to reach that conclusion," Jim said.

Chekov blinked. Next to him, Sulu glanced over his shoulder at the Captain skeptically.

"Captain?"

"Yes, Mr. Sulu?" Jim responded.

"Are you feeling alright?" Sulu asked hesitantly.

"I am feeling most satisfactory. Your concern is unwarranted," Jim replied.

"Are you… are _sure_ you're feeling alright, Captain?" Uhura asked. "Perhaps-"

"Mr. Sulu just asked me the same question, and I informed him that I am well. I am functioning optimally both physically and mentally. It is illogical for you to ask the same questions someone else asked just moments ago."

Another hush fell over the bridge.

"Zee Keptin iz tuwning into Mistew Spock!" Chekov gasped. "Mistew Spock must've done zee Vulcan mind meld."

"I dont think thats how it works, Chekov," Sulu said skeptically.

"Ensign, that is a most ridiculous and foolish theory. I am not ill; I am perfectly fine and functioning at optimal health, as I have said repeatedly," Jim steepled his hands in front of his chin, staring the main screen attentive.

"Uh, Jimmy? Are ya' sure you're alright? Per'aps-"

"I have said _repeatedly_ that I am functioning fine, Mr. Scott. Am I not expressing my thoughts in a way that you understand?" Jim said sternly.

"Er…" Scotts voice faltered.

Jim ignored him. Was everyone on the Enterprise this unreasonable?

A small whirring noise behind him told Jim that the elevator delivered another crewmember; Kirk paid it no mind and kept staring ahead, mulling over what the logical course of action would be for the away team.

"Jim."

"Yes, Doctor?" Jim said blankly without looking at the surgeon.

"You need to come back to the med bay. I'm gonna give you a brain scan. It's already all set up."

"You need not concern yourself with such unnecessary precautions," Jim said as he inclined his head back.

McCoy moved so he was in Jim's line of sight. Worry was etched all over his expression, but he still was able to maintain a fierce glare.

Usually Jim would feel uneasy when McCoy gave him that glare; like a child being scolded.

Now he felt nothing.

"He's still delirious," McCoy muttered. To who, Jim had no idea.

"Doctor, the chances of me having some sort of ailing condition and being unaware of it would be three hundred forty two point six five to one," Jim said.

"Three hundred… what in sams hill are you going on about? It's physically impossible… " McCoys eyes drifted up to something over Jim's shoulder and he scowled. "You're enjoying this, aren't you Spock? You're sick."

"I didn't say anything, Doctor."

"You didn't need to. You got that look in your eye," McCoy grumbled a couple of weak curse words before stiffening up and glaring at Jim again. "If you don't come with me right now I'm declaring you medically unfit to man this vessel."

"Doctor-"  
"Dont 'Doctor' me, Jimmy. Get to the med bay before I knock you out and drag you there."

"Fascinating," Jim remarked. "You're threatening to lay harm to physical well being so you can try to tend to my well being. Quite an emotional fueled response, wouldn't you say so, Mr. Spock?"

"Indeed, Captain," Spock responded.

McCoys scowl increased. "Of course _you_ would encourage his actions."

"I am neither encouraging or discouraging anything. I am merely making observations," said Spock, sounding slightly amused, "Captain, while I do not think it would do any good, I believe that it would be the logical course of action to submit yourself to Doctor McCoy's medical check. If he cannot find anything, then he will have no grounds to declare you unfit. You will be able to resume your responsibilities within the hour."

"Quite right, Mr. Spock," Jim said. He turned to a flabbergasted, open mouthed Chekov who looked more than a little frightened. "Ensign Chekov."

Chekov stiffened.

"Alert Security to prepare an away team. Report to them as well, we'll be needing a navigator."

"Yes… Keptin…" Chekov said hesitantly.

"Doctor McCoy," Jim said, rising to his feet slowly. McCoy raised his eyebrows. "If it will put your mind at ease and allow you to continue with your duties, I will comply with your medical check. I would like it to remain clear, however, that I find this most unnecessary. You have one hour."

"An hour's all I need."

Bones rubbed his hands all over his face, screaming internally and mentally drafting his seventh resignation letter.

Why did these kinds of things alway happen to him?

Why couldn't he just have a normal day? Just one day. Just one! That's all he wants!

There's only so many times a day he can endure dealing with the remarkably stupid shenanigans that his best friend and that green blooded leprechaun come up with without losing his mind.

* * *

Bones had worked frantically the entire hour Jim had allotted him, testing every possible theory that filtered through his mind.

And _of course_ Spock was no help at all. The Vulcan had spent the entire time discussing with Jim the ethics and impact of the child labour regulations set in place in England during the industrial revolution, and how they negatively and positively affected the steadily growing economy.

How they decided to talk about _that_ of all things was _far _beyond Bones.

He wanted to rip out his own eardrums the entire time.

Then, later, when McCoy asked the logic elf to give him permission to continue running tests on the captain, he replied, "though I do not disagree that something odd is occuring with the Captain, I do not find it necessarily a bad thing. Jim is in no way physically unable to continue with his duties. I see him fit to return to his post."

That was wise cracking, smart alek Vulcan speak for 'Jimmy is super ill and talking like a cold hearted machine like me, but I like having someone to talk to about stupid stuff that no normal person should ever feel the need to talk about, so I'm gonna be selfish and let him go about his business, blah blah blah, blah blah blah blah, blah blah, blah, logic, blah blah.'

Bones' right eye twitched.

He was gonna kill his best friend right after he got done saving him.

"Doctor?"

"I don't know, let me work!" Bones growled, snapping a pencil in his fist.

"It's just me," Nurse Chapel said, setting down a small box in front of Bones. "The landing party got back. Spock sent this for you."

Bones groaned as Chapel walked away.

He bitterly pulled the lid off the box, half expecting it explode in his face. Not that he cared at this point, anyway.

Instead was a small, round container made of glass holding a small orange and red flower. On top of it was a note that read:

Doctor, while I still stand by my opinion that your species would be much better off with more logical mindsets, the… _enlightening… _away mission convinced me that this may not be the most logical way for the captain continue. I suppose you will laugh at the irony. I failed to count for the fact that Vulcans have spent hundreds of years developing and living with our superior minds, and that a human gaining Vulcan level logic with no warning whatsoever might end catastrophically. I selected and sent to you a flower with the hopes that you can create an antidote.

I would participate in one of your old Human traditions of wishing another luck, but it is a silly, useless superstition that would have no impact on your work whatsoever.

On another note, three away mission members, including two from security and Ensign Chekov, will be reporting to the medbay soon to be treated for second and third degree burns.

Also, Chekov fainted.

Science Officer Spock, Second In Command, USS Enterprise.

Bones sighed and rolled his eyes. He picked up the strange looking plant and made his way to the door, looking over his shoulder at Nurse Chapel as he left.

"Nurse, prepare to receive three members of the away team for burns."

"Why? What happened?" she asked.

"Vulcan-brained Kirk is what happened."

"Huh?"

"Just prepare the supplies!"

Bones slid into the elevators and rode them down to the second to last level, then entering the first room on the right.

The green house.

It was empty except for Bones and the one person tending to plants on the other side of the room. Bones smirked. Of course he'd be here. He's always here during his break.

"Sulu," Bones said.

Sulu jumped back, nearly knocking over an empty flower pot in the process. He whipped around, still a little startled.

"Doctor."

"I need your opinion on something," Bones said, holding out the plant in the small container.

Sulu raised an eyebrow and leaned down, peering into the container.

"What do you know about it?" Bones asked.

"I'd have to take a closer look. May I?"

"Sure, but dont breathe in the pollen." Bones handed it to him. "Turns you into a Vulcan."

Sulu looked at him quizzingly, but didn't comment on it. Instead he sat down at a table and handed Bones a mask before grabbing one from himself.

Both of them properly covered, Sulu opened the container and gingerly lifted the odd looking thing out of it.

"Remarkable," Sulu commented after a moment, "it's a Sensus Oppilos. I've never seen one in person."

"A sen- what?" Bones asked, blinking hard.

"Sensus Oppilos. I've read about them in books." Sulu shrugged. Bones blinked again. Sulu pointed at the jagged cuts along the center, covered in a thick layer of yellow pollen. "It shoots these out into the air as a defense mechanism. It stimulates certain cells in an animal's nervous system and neutralizes other cell, leaving the attacker disorientated and defeslise."

"What if a human were to breathe it in? What then? Could it be reversed?" Bones asked, a couple possibilities filtering through his mind.

"I wouldn't recommend anyone breathing it in. When you said 'it turns someone into a Vulcan' you weren't entirely wrong. It neutralizes the cells associated with the brain's Limbic system, which controls emotion, and energizes cells in the left hemisphere of the cerebrum, which controls logic, speech, mathematics-"

But can it be fixed?" Bones groaned. If Sulu said 'no' he was quitting. That's it. He would quit. One logic centered, annoying, pain in the rear end crew member was enough; Spock already drove him up the wall. If Bones had to deal with two Spocks…

He shuddered just thinking about it.

"Sure," Sulu shrugged, humming softly to the plant and lowering it into its container like a mother would lower her baby in a crib.

Bones stiffened, a hug smile spreading across his mouth. "Sure?"

"I mean, all the pollen does is neutralize certain cells. You'd just need to find a way stimulate all your nerves. This could be done with an excessively large dose of caffeine, or a huge spike of adrenaline, or even-"  
Bones was already out of the room, leaving Sulu to ramble on about plants.

He skid to a stop in front of the intercom system, pressing a button on its side. He sent a message to the bridge to send Kirk down to the Med Bay.

Then he stopped by the lounge to grab what he needed.

Byt the time he got back to his place of work, Spock and Jim were already there, chatting "casually" about Einstein's theory on physics and whether or not they were plausible in today's modern society.

It made Bones want to vomit.

"Doctor," Jim said, inclined his head slightly. He was standing identical to Spock; straight as a board with his hands clasped behind his back.

If someone would ignore the ears, Jim could get easily mistaken for another Vulcan.

The thought left a bitter taste in Bones mouth.

"I do hope that this is not a continuation of your baseless theories about my wellbeing and health. I have naught a-"

"Shut your ever flapping mouth and drink this," Bones growled, a little out of breath from running around the ship.

He was getting too old for this.

Jim eyed the cup of steaming coffee in Bones hand with an eyebrow raised.

"I do not understand. It is illogical-"

"The next person to say the word 'illogical' will get my fist shoved down their throat!" Bones snapped. Spock and Kirk wore mirror expressions, raised eyebrow and skeptical frown. Bones scowled again. He probably looked like a mad man. He didn't care. Shoving the cup into Jims hands, he said, "drink."

"It is not logical," Jim sighed. Bones kept his face neutral, but screamed on the inside.

"Drink," Bone repeated.

Jim tilted his head the side and gave Bones a skeptical look. Bones returned it with a glare.

With one last confused look, Jim downed half the cup in one swallow.

Nothing happened.

"Was this supposed to affect me in any way?" Jim asked, voice and expression still blank.

"Give it a minute," Bone growled. Nervous doubt pricked the back of his mind.

"Perhaps-"

"Woah…" Jim said, cutting Spock off. He took a step back, blinking hard. He looked down at the cup, up at Bones, at Spock, then back at Bones.

Jim groaned suddenly, bring up a hand to massage his temples.

"How ya feelin', Jimmy Boy?" Bones asked, smirking slightly.

"Lets… let's agree to never speak about this," Jim murmured. He leaned against the wall, still rubbing his temples.

"Aha! Now, is it a good time to turn in another letter or resignation? I have it already written out," Bones grinned, waving his hand at the stack of paper on his desk.

Kirk laughed softly. "Again, Bones?"

"For what it is worth, while I immensely enjoyed having someone of my mindset and intelligence to converse with, it is… nice… to have you back, Jim," Spock said.

Bones put a hand over his heart. "Spocky, don't go getting all emotional on us!"

"I was merely stating the facts, doctor. There was nothing emotional in that statement," Spock responded.

"Of course," Bones smiled.

Seemingly satisfied, Spock nodded went to leave.

"When pigs fly!" Bones called. Jim chuckled softly.

Spock paused at the doorway and gave Bones a look that might have passed for a glare on Vulcan, before turning again and leaving.

"Bones, if I might ask. How'd you know that the coffee would work?" Jim asked. Bones smiled mischievously.

"I put twelve shots of espresso in it. If that doesn't stimulate your nerves enough to knock you back to reality, then didn't know what would," he replied.

"Twelve shots? What, are you trying to give me a heart attack?" Jim asked.

"How about 'thank you, Bones, for saving me from living my life like a Vulcan; a truly horrific nightmare.'," Bones replied.

Jim laughed softly again. "Thanks. I guess I ought to be ready to not be able to sleep for the next night or two."

"Eh, I can give you some sleeping pills. Don't worry about it," Bones said.

"You know, I think Spock is really going to miss having someone to talk too. Maybe you should put that doctorate of yours to some real good use and have a deep, philosophical discussion with him sometime," Jim teased.

"Dang it, Jim! I'm a Doctor, not a logic obsessed Elf!"


End file.
